


A telling of our tryst

by JanaRumpandRCJawnn (JanaRumpandRCJawwn)



Series: A hundred sonnets [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Gen, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Omega Victor Nikiforov, Omega/Omega
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 02:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16031075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanaRumpandRCJawwn/pseuds/JanaRumpandRCJawnn
Summary: Yuuri must confess he quite liked how things had turned out.-Bit by bit, Yuuri comes to find his place in this new town.





	A telling of our tryst

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are with one more viktuuri part to this verse, halfway through! Please enjoy!

Yuuri must confess he quite liked how things had turned out.

Never in his life he would have expected that Viktor Nikiforov would become his dear friend, and all thanks to Yuuri’s own abismal lack of foresight. The nights spent with Viktor working on dresses, even if by now Yuuri was sure he had more than enough of them, were a balm to his nerves. More than two months had passed, and the wait for a reply to his poem didn’t aid at all his peace of mind. He’d inquired Christophe about it, who argued that he must wait for the shock of the last, incendiary piece to abate before further publications. Yuuri had admittedly flushed at that comment, reminded of the repercussions he’d once more not thought through, and hadn’t dared to ask about any hints towards Psique’s true identity like he’d intended to do.

He was now walking the gardens, keeping himself busy while Yuri had classes with Mister Crispino - Yuuri wasn’t keen on the tutor, a good man but old-fashioned, his attitudes exactly the kind Yuuri himself had been trying to wrestle away from Yuri - when he heard a voice calling from the gate. For a moment he looked around, attempting to spot Yakov or Leo, but then remembered that the former was currently away from the estate, and that the later had taken Master Nikolai and Viktor to town. So, perhaps against his better judgement, Yuuri went to check on who could it be. 

There stood a young blond beta man, dressed in simple clothes and with a bag slung over his shoulder. He flashed a brilliant smile as he saw Yuuri approaching. “Oh, I had started to worry something was amiss.”

“No, nothing of the sort.” Yuuri stepped, keeping his stance calm. This man did not look like a bad person, but it would not do to trust a stranger with no questions asked. “What is it that you came all the way here for, young man?”

He seemed startled at first, then embarked on a search through his bag. “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Kenjirou Minami, I work for Mister Giacometti’s paper, though for the time being I’m simply the deliverer.” Yuuri had indeed heard of him from the other servants, so he took the rolled up paper from in between the bars of the gate with no further ado. “Usually Leo or even Miss Mila come into town and bring it themselves, but this time here I am. I do apologise for the ruckus.”

Yuuri felt the slightest bit of excitement, although he did maintain his composure. “I’m Katsuki Yuuri, the governess. And do not fret, it was no disturbance.” The young man sighed, clearly relieved, and on a whim Yuuri decided to ask the question he had on his mind anyway. “So, in case Miss Babicheva asks, are there any new poems?”

Minami positively beamed right then. “Psique wrote Eros back!” Yuuri couldn’t keep himself from showing his surprise, but reigned in his elation. “This poem is quite… well, let’s just say Father Celestino will surely have opinions.”

Yuuri itched to go and read it already. He nodded at Minami and handed the young man a coin for his trouble, getting a cheerful curtsy inreturn. As soon as he was out of sight, Yuuri went to find a secluded bench in the gardens to sit and satiate his curiosity. Miss Mila and everyone else would just have to forgive his haste, but there was no chance he’d spend even a moment more in uncertainty. Underneath the shadow of a plush tree he opened the paper, eyes searching. 

_With whom, then, should I sleep? perhaps with thee,_  
And gaze into those eyes, those deep sad eyes,  
Feeling the drowsy touch of thy vast wings. 

He felt his cheeks flushing, his mouth gaping open. This was not the kind of reply he had expected from Psique, but he could not deny the thrill they brought, the daring they fanned. When had he ever been desired in such a way? For who he really was, soul deep. He yearned to be the only one to set eyes to these words, ludicrous as this thought was. Mila surely would love them, and perhaps a small part of Yuuri wanted Viktor to read it too, to see if he’d keep his poise or blush too instead.

He wished more than ever that he could find whoever Psique was, if only to be able to connect with someone, if only so he could share his incandescent feelings for Viktor with no fear of reproach or rejection. 

The paper was folded with a snap, and the governess headed for the manor in large strides. Any more time spent fantasising would have him ruined for the day.

\--

“I want it to make certain it is known that I’m the center of this party.” Yuri estated, crossing his arms stiffly over his chest. 

Ahead of Yuuri stood the young boy, atop a small footstool while Miss Crispino kneeled next to him with pins in her hand. She’d come that morning to start designing formal clothes for the ball Master Nikolai would be hosting in a few weeks. Yuri had acted very contrary at first, up until his grandfather mentioned the new attires they’d have to acquire, and then his humor took a turn towards delight. Yuuri was only taken aback by how shockingly _expensive_ his taste was. 

Sara just smiled softly at the young man, seemingly unfazed by his attitude. The same could not be said about his fashion sense, though. “Well, I’m sure your presence will be more than entrapping by itself, sir. I do reckon though that this suit would go very well in blue, royal or navy would fit perfectly with your complexion.”

Mila, who had been kindly posing as an assistant to Miss Crispino, chimed in. “Of gold your shoes will certainly suffice, my lord.” Her tone was unmistakably teasing, and Yuuri held his tongue to not chuckle himself. 

Yuri glared darkly at the maid. “These shoes are too tasteful for your simpleton understanding.” To the tailor he added, voice much more sedated. “Navy blue does sound like a fair option, I shall trust your expertise.” 

He then turned to Yuuri, maybe looking to change the subject from his own choices of attire. “What are you going to wear to the ball? I hope you have something of a better stitch than Viktor’s.”

Yuuri kept from immediately jumping in defense of his friend, certain that the beta meant no real offense, poor as his manners could be at times (which was his duty to rectify in the first place). “Well, I’m not going to be the center of attentions, Yuri. My dresses are quite suitable for a servant of this house.”

“I didn’t mean to criticise.” Yuri muttered, pouting just the slightest. Yuuri didn’t hide his amusement well, for the next glare came right in his direction. Silence was restored after that, leaving space for Miss Crispino’s instructions to be heard properly. 

The view out the window became Yuuri’s distraction for the moment, seeing as his suggestions of sober clothing fell to deaf ears. For a near recluse, the boy beta sure did enjoy to look extravagant. Mila soon wandered closer to him with a smile on her lips.

“Mister Katsuki, are you excited for the ball?” She clearly was, almost bouncing on her heels. “It’s been so long since the last one, perhaps we can make our own party afterwards.” 

Yuuri couldn’t say he was as excited. In his experience balls had always felt stifling, all enjoyment caged in favor of graceful behaviour to attract suitors. The idea of a party with Viktor and the rest of the staff was delightful though. Perhaps the two of them could even dance together, given the lack of betas among the manor’s servants. 

“I do enjoy dancing, and I have to admit I would appreciate the chance to actually waltz again.”

Mila giggled, looking so very young. Yuuri liked her, how lively she was, and that affection had been even more fueled by the fact she’d given him Psique’s last poem to keep. A hint of suspicion had shone in her eyes at his request, but the absence of any comments proved her silence concerning it all. He wished someday he could tell her about it, though this was definitely not the moment to do so. 

“You are going to have the greatest of times, Mister Katsuki, I’m sure of it.” She smiled at him, holding his hands between hers. 

Until Miss Crispino called her over, that is, and the maid practically fluttered closer, delight clear on her face. Yuuri mused yet another time how this life was far better for him than he could have ever expected.

\-- 

Lilia had showed up during breakfast, harried as she very rarely appeared. Yuuri, who had been distracted by Viktor’s notorious absence from the small room, snapped out of it by concern. The butler came to stand by the table, her tone very professional. “Mister Nikiforov is currently unable,to perform his duties as footman. Young Master Yuri shall be keeping Master Nikolai company during the next few days.”

Yuuri was close to asking for clarification, until it dawned on him: Viktor was afflicted by is heat. Mila sighed heavily by his side, setting aside her cutlery as she got up. “I will attend to him. Please excuse me for the time being, Miss Baranovskaya.”

Without letting himself ponder on the validity of his idea, Yuuri interrupted their exchange. “Miss Baranovskaya, perhaps I can attend Viktor during these days? Miss Babicheva has her hands full already, and since Young Master Yuri is going to be accompanying his grandfather I find myself with quite a lot of free time.”

He kept his eyes firmly on hers, not retracting his proposition in face of a carefully raised eyebrow. Following what he assumed to be internal deliberation, she nodded curtly. “If you so wish, the both of you seem close enough that Mister Nikiforov won’t be distressed. Unless you have any objections, Mister Feltsman.”

All eyes turned to the old beta, who just grunted in vague assent. Yuuri took the time to nod in gratitude before walking past Mila, who mouthed a soft ‘thank you’. Yuuri had already finished his breakfast either way, so heading at once to his friend’s room was no trouble. He did feel slightly embarrassed at this predicament, truth be told, as Yuuri had never seen another omega’s heat. His own were quite mild, and he would be able to sit and read books with barely any disturbance, but upon approaching Viktor’s room it became clear that this wasn’t such a case. He knocked twice, barely parsing a permission to enter among ragged breaths. 

No amount of praying or, contrarily, Psique’s poems would have been able to prepare him for this. Viktor laid on his bed, hair loose around his flushed face, beautiful blue eyes clouded by something that Yuuri’s mind could only interpret as unfulfilled want. His nightgown was a disaster, exposing both his shoulders and almost going as low as to show a peak of his restless chest. Yuuri stood still in shock for a moment, hand gripping firmly the door handle for some sort of stability. 

“Yuuri,” It did not escape his attention that this was the first time Viktor called him by his name, and it didn’t aid his fluttering heart that it had been uttered in such a honeyed voice. “You’re here for me?”

Yuuri gulped and closed the door behind himself, judging privacy was a must in this situation. It was hard not to turn tail and run away from such a close replica of his most secret dreams, but he could never do anything of the sort, not when his friend was so vulnerable. His unease or desire could never take precedence to Viktor’s health and safety, and so he stepped closer. “I’m here to tend to you, Viktor.”

Pale fingers suddenly closed around his wrist, and the governess whelped in shock. Viktor was so very warm right now, feverish eyes focused on Yuuri. “You are so sweet, stay with me…”

Any resolve he might have had couldn’t withstand that plea, but still some matters demanded immediate attention. After muttered reassurances he went out to procure fresh water and clean sheets, and then came back to Viktor’s apparent surprise. He reached once more for touch, vulnerable like Yuuri had never seen before, at odds with his everyday aplomb. 

When he finally fell into a light sleep while Yuuri raked softly through his hair (such surreal occurence that was), the governess couldn’t bring himself to leave, even if only for a few hours. So he retrieved the little poetry he’d been carrying in his pocket as of late, and sat to read beside his lovely friend.

It was well after midday when Viktor woke up again, dazed and sweating still. “You stayed.” He rasped, voice tinted by a glee Yuuri could almost feel coiling itself around his heart. 

“Of course I did, you asked me to.” It may be that Viktor wouldn’t remember this moment once his heat was over, but the brilliant smile he gave Yuuri at that was more than worth any trouble. 

The older omega shifted on the bed, for a change away from Yuuri himself. “If you intend to stay over, we can share the bed.”

Yuuri should have declined the offer, but his will was frail, and what was propriety when faced with Viktor’s reddened cheeks and hopeful eyes. A heat was a time marked by solitude, and Yuuri wouldn’t want him to suffer if he could do anything to assuage that loneliness. So he sighed, trying to adhere to his manners while he could.

“When night comes, we will see. For now you should rest, Viktor.” His friend whined softly as he curled under the covers, thankfully acquiescing. Yuuri settled back himself and tried to pretend he could keep on reading. 

Later that night, it came as no surprise that he caved in to Viktor’s request and they did shared the bed. While Viktor slept rather peacefully, Yuuri was far too aware of his presence so close, of his breaths and soft groans. Nevertheless, as troubled as the night was, Yuuri was sure the next day he would stay once more.

\--

Yuuri didn’t see the need for confessions. While Father Celestino’s preaching was rather interesting, whenever they all went to church he found he shared Christophe’s indifference towards even the ritual of a mass. Although he had to admit it felt particularly shocking that his mind chose to wander back to his nights spent with Viktor when the priest argued for the importance of remaining pure till marriage. The happenstance itself had been sufficiently, but the same couldn’t be said of his recollections and what his imagination gleaned from them. 

Viktor seemed to confess often though, so Yuuri had elected to accompany him most times, if only to have another excuse to spend time in his delectable company. Which in turn obliged him to take his own time with the priest despite his unwillingness to truly repent from anything. 

“Speak, child.” Father Celestino’s voice sounded from the other side of the screen, and Yuuri searched for something to say.

Well, he supposed sharing some of his burden here wouldn’t do any harm. He hadn’t had anyone to vent, nothing to pour his feeling into other than his writing, for quite a while now. “Father, it has been a long time since my last confession. I do not think I have sinned, but the church says I have.” Heavy silence was the only response for the time being, and he felt compelled to keep going lest this stillness suffocate him. “Father, I’m... overly fond of another omega. He does not desire me, so I don’t force my affections upon him, but it's hard to remember to keep pure when he smiles, worse even when he holds my hands. I catch myself thinking that I should kiss him, but I never could, I can only write about it. In fact, I probably should apologize for the scandalous verses that have been published as of late.”

“Has the church done you wrong, child?”

Yuuri didn’t have as answer to that question, had never quite dared to consider that. “I have been warned that loves like mine will lead one to Hell, but I cannot understand how it could be so.” In all honesty, he refused to believe that spiel anymore, even though the fear did resurface at times.

Celestino took a deep breath before continuing, tone more comforting than Yuuri would have expected. “You shall not go to hell for your loves. The way you speak of your affections is no different than any other young person, so it would be nonsensical of me to condemn you for such things. If you remain respectful of the wishes of the other person, there will be no reason for me to judge you.” 

Yuuri was surprised to find himself smiling, after years of reprimands and forced silences in settings so similar. “Thank you, Father.”

“Although, perhaps you could go easier on God on your poems. I’m an old man, my son, and there is only so much I can deal with.”

Yuuri swallowed a laugh at that, a feeling of belonging settling in his glass heart .

-

He was sure this was a terrible idea, but Yuri (and Viktor, mostly Viktor really) insisted on introducing Yuuri to the horses. Young Master Yuri had a look to him at the proposal that convinced the governess this was supposed to embarrass him somehow, but how could he refuse. Now he’d come into the stables alongside the two of them and Leo, Yuri leading the group with a big devilish grin on his lips. The boy’s enthusiasm was most endearing as he rattled information about the mares and stallions, the complementary anecdotes Viktor murmured in his ear just as dear. 

“That one there is Dark Marigold.” Viktor gesture towards a black horse that Yuri was explaining to be more suited for heavy labor. “She once started chewing on the hair of a very impolite costumer of the deceased Lord Plisetsky, the woman was outraged and wanted him to sacrifice Marigold, but he found himself too amused to even reply.” Yuuri grimaced, imagining an entitled lady, the likes of which would spread mean spirited rumors at balls. Viktor followed his reaction and cleared his throat, taking half a step aside. “Lord Nikolai tells it better than I do.”

Yuuri rushed to reassure him, dreading a misunderstanding would thwart their easy friendship. “Oh, that’s not it, Viktor. I was just reminded of the many such ladies I’ve met before.” Faced with a simple hum, he searched for a chance of subject. “My experience with horses is very meager, I have to say they seem a bit threatening even.”

Before Viktor could reply, Young Master Yuri turned to them with an annoyed expression. “Are you two even listening?” He sported enough restraint to not sound spoiled and childish, merely put upon, so Yuuri deemed it an improvement. 

“Young Master, why don’t we go on a ride?” Viktor added in a conciliatory manner, even if there was a slight smirk on his lips. Yuuri arched an eyebrow at his friend, but chose to go along whatever this was.

Yuri looked both up and down, before granting them an annoyed sigh. “Very well. You will have to share a horse with Mister Katsuki, as I doubt he can ride.” The governess didn’t take offense, for indeed his household had never had many horses and he’d never been taught to ride (Nishigori loved them, and had offered Yuuri a ride many a time, but he’d always refused). Despite his lack of interest in the activity itself, he’d make an effort for Viktor and Yuri.

“If you insist.”

Leo started arranging the horses for them, content and with ease. Yuuri had gathered from his time in the manor that the servants often went for rides in the estate, but Master Nikolai was past his prime and Young Master Yuri hadn’t partaken much until now. Only when the coachman brought a mare closer to him that Yuuri realized far too late that sharing a horse with Viktor would mean them seating much closer than he ever had, as much body contact as they’d had during Viktor’s heat but when the man was in his full mental capacities. Viktor helped him up onto the saddle sideways, then sat in place astride himself, his skirts rising to show simple riding pants underneath. The heat of his arms seemed to burn through Yuuri’s own clothes, and soft breathing caressed his cheek as Viktor spoke, outlining the way to properly command a horse. “You can’t be too soft with them, or they will take you for a ride.”

“Much like high society betas, then?” Yuuri whispered back only to hear Viktor’s laughter, it was the sweetest melody.

Their horse was far enough from Yuri’s that there was not a chance their comments would be heard, and for a moment Yuuri couldn’t help but wonder if Viktor could’ve planned this. If there was even a small chance he wanted to be alone with Yuuri as much as Yuuri wanted to be with him. It was too hopeful a thought, one he would usually send scurrying away, but didn’t manage too while faced with such soft a beauty so close. 

“I never did quite thank you for taking care of me, Mister Katsuki.” His friend broke their companionable silence as they followed Yuri through the fields. The red tint to his cheeks thoroughly broke through his composure, because he’d never expected this particular subject to be touched upon so openly. “It’s always quite hard, as I’m one of those unfortunate enough to lose control of my faculties. Usually Mila is the one to assist me, it does often trigger her own times. Please forgive me if at any point that ordeal was… distasteful.”

“It would never be so.” Yuuri let the words slip, abhorring the idea that Viktor would reproach himself in such a manner, and his face burned scarlet at the unbridled passion in his tone. “Viktor, you’re my dear friend and you needed my help, I could never be repulsed by you when you were in your most vulnerable.” The horse came to a slow halt, Viktor looking at him as if trying to solve a riddle. Yuuri took that opportunity reassure him with a smile, and added something he’d been meaning to for a very long time. “Also, don’t you think we’ve gone quite past such formalities? You may call me Yuuri.”

Viktor brightened then, sweet and open, and for a moment Yuuri thought he could just lean in and kiss those rose lips. Then and there, atop of a horse on the fields just beyond the Plisetsky estate. It took a godly level of restrain to just smile back. 

Somewhere not too far from them, Yuri sighed once more in frustration.

\--  
It was the first time he went into town proper since he had arrived (although he had attended mass, that was far from the center). Master Nikolai suggested that he be the one accompanying Yuri to one of the tea events Chris had started organizing, which he abided to even though it sounded bizarre. Perhaps if Yuri was an omega it wouldn’t be so, Miss Minako had indeed acted as Yuuri’s chaperone many times, but as it was the governess considered recommending Master Nikolai give some thought to hiring a proper valet. 

“I don’t see why I must attend this, Jean is unbearable and Christophe is always so odd, though he does have a cat so I suppose he can’t be that bad.” Yuri complained for the thousandth time as they made their way down the street. “At least he has a good collection of books we can peruse if boredom strikes too great.” He turned to Yuuri then, eyes sparkling like they often did in his presence nowadays. “Perhaps he will even have a full print of The Modern Prometheus, or even something about the murders in the capital.”

Yuuri arched an eyebrow, keeping his pace steady, as much as the young beta seemed to want to rush. His smile was placid, as it should always be in such a public setting. “Perhaps he will, but remember to first of all be a good guest, and _try_ to keep some conversation going for a while, Christophe can be quite a nice company if you grant him the chance.”

Yuri dramatically rolled his eyes, but soon enough retook a minimally agreeable stance once they both got to the Giacometti household. Christophe came forth to receive them at the door, wearing clothes that probably appealed to his yong pupil’s outlandish tastes, all bright colors and velvet. He didn’t hesitate to hug the boy, who remained somewhat stiff all through the gesture, then turned to Yuuri with a dainty bow. “Do come join us, gentleman. We’re discussing the lastest fencing tournament in the capital. Apparently an old friend of yours was the sensation of it, Mister Katsuki.”

The young beta in front of him couldn’t have whipped his head around fast enough, eyes wide as if demanding Yuuri tell him more about that. Such an interest was fortunate, since it would keep him from fleeing to the library and favoring feline company above all. Instead of sating the boy’s curiosity, Yuuri kept on talking to his friend. “Can you show us to the tea room, Mister Giacometti?”

Christophe took no time to lead them further into his beautiful house, where a small group was already gathered. Two young people with dark hair and obviously expensive dresses sat side by side at the table, one accompanied by who Yuuri assumed to be a footman and the other by two older people that Yuuri supposed were his parents. Sara Crispino and her brother were also there, the man looking out of place in his tense posture. Christophe was a most amiable host, in mere moments having introduced them all with ease. 

The very talkative alpha was Jean-Jacques Leroy, single child to his prestigious parents. While the couple seemed interested in engaging the Crispinos in conversation, Mister Jean-Jacques insisted on prompting Yuri time and time again only to be more or less politely dismissed. The other one was Otabek Altin, but he remained as quiet and distant as his footman.

In place of talking to their assorted company as Yuuri had hoped, the Plisetsky boy was far too intent in hammering him with questions. “Who do you know that is a prodigy of fencing? I used to watch all the tournaments before-” The pause was perceptive, but Yuuri certainly wouldn’t press him on his grief at this time. “Before I came to this nowhere, of course.”

“Phichit Chulanont. He is not allowed in the official tournaments, but he was always exceptional.”

Yuuri might as well have said he knew Jesus in person, because Yuri looked absolutely awestruck. He spent the next fifteen minutes only asking Yuuri about his friendship with Phichit, and ignoring the rest of the party no matter how much the governess tried to get him to at least address the rest of the guests. More than once Christophe shot him a sympathetic glance, clearly seeing the effort he was putting there to naught. Eventually though Yuri tired of insisting for now, leaving the table for the cat and dark themed books, forcing Yuuri to apologize to the groupon his behalf. He had never been particularly good at social interactions himself, evading quite some parties to hide in music rooms or libraries with Yuuko, so he couldn’t judge him much. Now he found being on the other side of this situation was far less enjoyable, but fortunately no one there appeared to be offended. 

At some later point in this afternoon, he’d have to find a moment alone with Chris to hand the paper that currently rested so carefully tucked away on the inside of Yuuri’s coat. The next poem to Psique, though it was also a very deep consideration of what had been happening between him and Viktor - nothing more than fanciful dreams, he was afraid. Anyhow, he would take his solace in the secret that was his own identity, and the fact he could shout his feelings towards Viktor to the whole town and still keep them close to his heart, having none but Chris be the wiser to it.

**Author's Note:**

> In which Yuri is a lowkey matchmaker, Father Celestino knows much more than he would have wanted to, and Christophe just wants the whole town to be friends
> 
> As for a wb note, apparently women’s pockets began to be sabotaged in late 18th century fashion, but Yuuri and many others stay strong 
> 
> The poem in this one is With Whom, Then, Should I Sleep?, written by George Ives in 1897, found in the Victorian Queer Archive
> 
>  
> 
> Any thoughts, don’t hesitate to shoot us a comment!
> 
> Many kisses,   
> Jana


End file.
